Hummingbird
by Bluehaven4220
Summary: MIRACLE The day Jim Craig and Tanya Burnaby each held a hummingbird in their hands was the day their lives changed forever. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Hummingbird**

**Author: Bluehaven4220**

**Summary[MIRACLE The day Jim Craig and Tanya Burnaby each held a hummingbird in their hands was the day their lives changed forever.**

**Reviews: Always welcome, of course.**

**Disclaimer: I'm playing with other people's toys. Any and all original chaacters are MINE, no touchee!**

_A tragic victim of my circumstance_

_Never give the devil a second chance_

_If you do you know that you never will_

_Probably best to forget and begin again._

_My Apology- Great Big Sea_

_[MIRACLE_

"When the sky falls we'll all catch larks", she used to tell him.

He found it kind of funny that the day the sky fall, it wasn't a lark that flew before him.

It was a hummingbird.

The hummingbird landed in his palm, gently prodding him to see how he would react. Evetually losing interest, the hummingbird fluttered his wings and took off into the bright sunlight, him shielding his eyes with his hand and squinting.

The same day, just a few minutes away, Tanya Burnaby caught the same hummingbird.

It wasn't as though the hummingbird actually _meant_ anything to either of them. It was just a bird, a harmless bird.

But what they didn't realize was that that hummingbird was supposed to bring them together, they just didn't know it yet.

For Tanya Burnaby was stuck in a realistic nightmare, her mother struggling to make ends meet, to give her a good life. Tanya did what she could, toiling at Boston College as a student of journalism, but to go back to the life in which they had suffered so cruelly would mean that her father would have died in vain, a victim of the Holocaust, a slave to the world she no longer lived in.

Her mother, Natalia, had been a gypsy who had opposed Stalin and had been imprisoned first in the Siberian work camps, next in Riga, Latvia, and then to Bergen-Belsen in Germany. She claimed that upon arriving to America, and changing their last name from Kovalev to Burnaby, Tanya's father, Vladislav had not been able to accept the change. A Russian rail worker, Vladislav could not believe that the people of America did not and had never lived in fear of Stalin's tretchery. They were free to do as they pleased.

Of course, the Cold War still raged. There was always that fear that one day the Americans would do something to piss off the Russians behind the Iron Curtain and then suddenly they would all be dead, and vice versa. Not a tree still standing, not a bird still singing, not a human crying tears of regret. To cope he had started drinking heavily, to the point of abuse, of both the drink and of Natalia. When Tanya was born July 24th, 1957, only twelve years after the Holocaust had ended, Vladislav Burnaby had decided he could not endure his own hell any longer. His gun, torn from his father's hands, had done the deed.

A terrified Natalia, still fresh from giving birth, had found her husband face down on the dressing table, the gun discarded on the floor. As a result, Tanya had never known her father, nor her father's secrets in the world they left behind.

In a world far removed from hers, Jim Craig did not know what to think. Upon jumping into the lake and allowing himself to be swept away, he heard a voice telling him that she was gone, that her suffering had ended. Wasn't that what he had wanted?

Not this way though. This way was too painful... he'd watched her lose her beautiful hair, he'd seen her suffer from shingles, he'd gone to the hospital, kept her company as she dwindled to forty seven pounds. To see her suffer had been dreadful.

But to watch her die had been almost terrifying. Margaret Craig was a beautiful woman, to her husband and to her children. Strong, affectionate, bearer of Jimmy and his seven brothers and sisters. Every morning he would leave her a note in the mailbox, telling her he loved her, and for her to have a great day. Later, he found out that she kept every note.

He remembered that each time he went to visit her she would gently enquire about when he was going to play in the Olympics and how wonderful it would be if he ever did. Living out her last days at his older sister's place, he had taken his two youngest brother's swimming, and that's when he had heard that voice. The voice telling him his mother was no longer suffering.

Margaret Craig was at peace.

Then came another blow. His father, Donald, lost his job as a food service manager. Deeply depressed, he sat at home knitting, as Jimmy's two youngest brothers still attended school. Now in university, Jimmy used whatever money he earned and sent it home.

Upon receiving a letter inviting him to Olympic tryouts, the first thing he'd done was phoned his father and asked for his opinion.

Donald smiled to himself. His son, for years and years pushed to play goalie, because he had the natural ability. Starting on Holmes' Pond, he worked his way up to play as Boston University's starting goalie. By all means, Donald told him, do so. Go, try out for the Olympic team, make your mother proud.

And so he did.

Now, as Jimmy and Tanya, still in worlds distanced by circumstances beyond their control, walked down the same street toward their seemingly impossible tasks, they brushed past each other, bumping shoulders.

Apologizing, they smiled at each other and turned away from each other, one never to see the other again.

Or so they thought.

Little did they know that they would indeed, see each other again.

Sooner than expected, of course. The only thing Tanya didn't realize when Herb Brooks called her in Boston to meet him at the University of Minnesota as a PR agent, was that Jim Craig was waiting on the other side.


	2. Chapter 2

**justlikewedo: I'm THRILLED that you like this so much. Please enjoy this next chapter.**

**meadow567: I'm glad you found it interesting. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter as well**

* * *

_Fog lifts to reveal potential_

_For generations prophesized_

_Our growth to be exponential_

_Our promise finally realized_

Feel It Turn- Great Big Sea

* * *

Herb Brooks was a rather intimidating man. When he reached out to shake your hand, he was serious. His handshake was firm and to the point. 

It was exactly what Tanya was met with him the first time she stepped into his office.

"Excuse me?" she knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" came the curt reply, without looking up.

"I'm the PR agent you sent for..." she took a tentative first step into the office.

Looking up to meet her eyes, he put down his pen and stood up. "You must be Tanya Burnaby."

"That I am," she answered, a hint of Russian accent following through her voice. Extending her hand, she was met with that firm handshake.

"Herb Brooks, good ta meet ya," he offered her the seat across from his desk as he sat back down. "So as I understand it, you're majoring in journalism at Boston College, am I correct?"

"Yes sir."

He looked at her over the rims of his reading glasses. "You do realize that half the prospects here are from Boston."

"Yes sir, Boston University, correct?"

"Yes," he answered. "The other half are from Minnesota, a couple from UNH, mostly Eastern and Midwestern boys."

"Sir, you do realize that the two, Boston University and the University of Minnesota, I mean, despise each other?"

"I am well aware of that fact, yes..."

"And me, being from Boston College, there's even more bad blood between my school and BU. Why sent for me?"

"Because I've looked over your portfolio and happen to think that you're the best person for the job." He answered. "The whole point is to bring people together, to work as one. I don't want anyone getting territorial, players or otherwise."

"Yes sir, I understand..."

"Just call me Herb."

"Alright... _Herb_. Believe me, I know that feeling all too well."

"How so?"

"I'm Russian."

Those two words seemed to echo throughout the room.

"Before you hold me to that, let me say that I'm a first-generation American. My mother and father were both from Leningrad."

"Do you speak the language?"

A series of words and sounds unfamiliar to one Herb Brooks spilled from her mouth.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I said, yes I can speak the language, and that I hope it wouldn't be used against me."

"Why should it? Being able to speak Russian is a valuable asset, especially with the reporters and people you'll be dealing with."

"Dealing with?"

"Reporters are hell to deal with," Herb sat back in his chair. "I don't like doing it."

"So I guess that's what I'm here for? To deal with the things you don't want to deal with?"

"Nah, not everything, just the media," he stood up and held out his hand. She took it, and walked with him out the door. "Come on, let me introduce you to the rest of the staff."

_Staff?_ she thought to herself.

Following Herb into another office, she came face to face with an older man with thick glasses and thinning hair, and then met the other, taller than the one who wore the glasses.

"Gentlemen, this is Tanya Burnaby, our Public Relations agent. Tanya, this is Craig Patrick, assistant coach..."

She shook his hand.

"And this is Dr. George Nagobads, our team physician, affectionately, and I use the term loosely, known as Doc."

"Hello," he shook her hand. "Tanya, forgive me, but..." he then broke into Russian, that neither Craig nor Herb could understand.

"я не могла не заметить, что у вас очень Европы нетерпением." (I could not help but notice that you have a very European look)

"Да, мои родители были из Ленинградской." (Yes, my parents were from Leningrad)

"Тогда ваши фамилия должна изменились." (Then your last name must have changed)

"Да, она была изменена с Ковалев в Бернаби после моей семьи приехала в 1945 году." (Yes, it was changed from Kovalev to Burnaby when my family came here in 1945.)

"Tanya?" Herb spoke up. "I'd like for you to stand with Craig and Doc when they read the roster."

"You've finalized the team?" her mouth dropped open. "I was under the impression that everyone is here for a week. They've been on the ice for a day."

"You're the second person to tell me that, Tanya. And I'll tell you the same thing I told him. Every one of those boys on that list was chosen for a specific reason. I know what I need to compete, and the boys on the list are it."

Tanya shrugged. She knew enough about Herb Brooks to back off when need be.

Later that day, when Craig and Doc stood in front of an arena full of Olympic hopefuls, she scanned the crowd, looking for at least a number or last name."

"Craig, Cox, Eruzione..." Craig finished. "And that's the roster for now. The rest of you, thanks for coming out."

Suddenly she saw the stands empty and Herb Brooks emerge from the shadows at the top of the stairs.

"Take a good look, gentlemen," he said.

Tanya grit her teeth.

"Because they're the ones getting off easy," he walked down the aisle stairs. "There'll be twenty names on that roster by February, so more of you are going home."

She noticed players' eyes following Herb as he continued his descent.

"You give 99 percent you'll make my job very, very easy," he reached the end of the stairs and clapped her on the shoulder. "I'll be your coach, I won't be your friend. If you want one of those, you can take it up with Doc, or Coach Patrick here." With that, he went off by himself.

"Alright gentlemen," Tanya voiced, holding up the exams Craig had handed to her. "Coach Patrick tells me that's it for today, you've got a little homework to do," they sat back in their seats. "Before you celebrate," she added with a smile.

A little while later Tanya dropped a quarter into a payphone, which stood right by the dorm rooms on the fifth floor. Dialing, she waited until her mother picked up the phone.

"Hey Mama," she greeted.

Waiting, she leaned up against the wall as her mother spoke.

As she spoke, out of the corner of her eye she saw the same person she'd bumped into that one day on the street. He had the same face, the same broad shoulders, the same eyes.

Her mother spoke so fast she had no choice but to concentrate on what she was saying.

"Oh no, don't you _dare_ bring Papa into this!" she hissed into the mouthpiece. "I don't care that he wouldn't have wanted me traveling with a bunch of men who play such a rough sport."

There was a muffled sound coming from the outside of the phone as Natalia spoke.

"Oh, so now he'd brand me a whore, would he?" her voice got lower. "I'm their _PR_ agent, I'm not their..." and she let out a string of Russian only Doc Nagobads would've understood. "No I don't _care_. I'd sooner drink rat poison then go to visit him. He was a _coward."_

Again, another string of Russian.

"Don't even _speak_ to me about that. In fact, I wish he'd died _then, _or better yet if you'd..."

This girl really seemed to go in and out speaking in Russian, he noticed.

When she hung up the phone she turned around, tears in her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he approached her.

"Absolutely bloody fantastic, can't you tell?" she forced herself to swallow her anger and tears.

"Look, I'm sorry for walking in on you, but you look familiar..."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You look remarkably like a young woman I ran into about two and a half years ago."

She chuckled. "Well, I'm sure you've run into plenty of young women in two and a half years."

"It was the same day I held a hummingbird in my hand."

She stopped, a lone tear running down her face. "Did you say hummingbird?"

He nodded.

Suddenly her hand reached out. "Tanya Burnaby..." she offered.

He smiled and shook her hand. "Jim Craig."


	3. Chapter 3

**justlikewedo: glad you LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE it. I have you and my other beta (who is GREAT just like you) to bounce ideas off of so YAY. Enjoy this new chapter.**

**csd11242: Oh it's always great to see a new reviewer! So you like goalie stories you say? well then, enjoy this next chapter!**

**meadow567: yes, our Jim Craig does have a good memory. Enjoy this new chapter**

* * *

I'm sorry if I ruined your day 

I really hope that you understand

I'm a million miles away

Looking for a place to land

Something to It- Great Big Sea

* * *

If there was one thing that Tanya didn't understand, it was that she was here, in Minnesota, alone... why? The lone candidate from Boston College. Well, you couldn't really say candidate. Although, perhaps you could... if Herb didn't like how she handled herself, he'd send her home. Even though she knew nothing about any of the Boston University boys, she knew that, through their university connections, bad blood would soon spill over. 

Upon looking at the roster in her hand a few days later, she realized that indeed, Jim Craig was from Boston University. Good Lord, what would he say hearing that she was a journalism student from Boston College? Along with Mike Eruzione, Jack O'Callahan, and Dave Silk. The four of them seemed to be alright, she'd met them when Herb had introduced her to the team.

"Gentlemen, I don't think I need to tell you to behave yourselves. She is, after all, our PR agent, and I _will not_ have any of you conducting yourselves in a manner that reflects poorly on this team."

Silence.

"Good. Now let's go, let's run it again."

She waited as the group of them broke away and half went back to the bench.

"What's he doing?" she asked Coach Patrick as they skated.

"Alright Johnson, pick it up!" Herb shouted.

"It's a drill, that's all." Coach Patrick whispered to her. "Kick it out!" he shouted across the ice.

A whistle blew, catching her attention. "Johnson! That coast to coast stuff may work here but not against the teams we'll be playing." Mark Johnson, he was from the University of Wisconsin, skated to the bench.

"Don't worry about it, keep your head up, alright?" she saw Craig whisper to Mark.

As the same drill was run again, she saw Jack O'Callahan skating... wait a minute, he wasn't after the puck...

He was after Rob McClanahan!

Closer... closer...

SMACK!

Tanya let out a scream as McClanahan crashed to the ice.

Her hands over her mouth, she ran toward the coach's room, to the payphone.

Dropping in a quarter, she dialed home.

"_Allo?"_

"Mama..." she started.

"_So now you are coming home?"_

"I think so, Mama. These men are too..."

"_Uncivilized?"_

"They go after each other for no reason."

"_Did I not tell you? Did I not tell you you should not be around such people?"_

"Yes..." she sighed. "Yes, you did tell me. I'll go to the coach and tell him that I'm resigning and coming home."

"_Okay. So when I see you?"_

"I don't know. Friday?"

"_Okay, then. I see you Friday."_

With that, Tanya hung up the phone and worked her way back up to the ice pad. As she did so she heard a cold reply of "Jack O'Callahan, Charlestown Mass. Boston University."

Reappearing, Herb looked at her and shouted to her. "Tanya, where are you from?"

"Boston College!" she yelled back.

The mouths of all the Boston University players dropped open. How could their _PR agent_ be from Boston _College_ of all places? Why?

"Very good, now let's run it again!"

After practice, Tanya found her way to Herb's office and knocked on the door.

"Yeah?"

"Herb, uh..."

"Come on in, Tanya," he didn't even look up from his conversation with the other person in the room. "Oh of course, we don't got a chance of winning, but don't let them know that, okay?"

"Alright," he nodded and got up. "Hey Tanya," he greeted.

"Hey Jim," she smiled as he turned to get past her.

"What brings you here, Tanya?" Herb asked as she sat down in the chair Jim had previously occupied.

"Well, um... Herb," she started. "You see, I wasn't really sure whether I should have taken this job in the first place, and um... I know I'm not strong enough to go through with this. I'm resigning," she handed him a piece of paper, "I'm going home."

Herb nodded. "Well I'm sorry to see you go, Tanya."

"It's for the best," she shook his hand and left his office. As she turned away she felt tears running down her cheeks.

"Tanya?" she heard Craig ask as she past him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded as she raced past. "Yeah, Craig, I'm fine."

Upon reaching her dorm room, she grabbed her bag and packed her things as quickly as she could. Once packed, she grabbed her room key and made her way downstairs. Throwing the key down on the counter, she ran.

Three hours later, she was back in the airport.

"Mama!" she greeted as Natalia held out her arms.

"Hello, my girl," she smiled and hugged her daughter. "Good flight, you had?"

"Yes Mama," she answered.

"They treat you well, yes?"

"Oh yes, Mama, of course."

Natalia smiled. "I am glad you are home."

Tanya wasn't so sure. She enjoyed doing what she did, going along with the team as one of them, writing and speaking on their behalf. Of course, she hadn't really had to do any of that _yet_, but it was something she'd been looking forward to.

It wasn't until Christmas that she was able to persuade her mother that it would be a great oppourtunity for her to travel with the team and go to the Olympics as the US public relations agent.

It had taken endless conversations over pots of coffee and meals of borsht before Natalia had given in.

Catching a cab from the airport to the Nagobads' house, she smiled.

The house was brightly decorated with Christmas lights, the snow lightly falling to the ground. Paying the fare, she grinned as she walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

The door opened.

There stood Jim Craig, Santa suit and all.

"Tanya!"

"Hi Jim," she grinned, stepping in the doorway.

"It's good to see you," he shut the door behind her. "I thought you'd..."

"Yeah, well, I..."

He waited.

"Changed my mind." _Foot in mouth, foot in mouth,_ she told herself_. Don't tell him why you **really** left._

He nodded.

"Come on in, everyone's waiting to see you again."

She followed Jim into the dining room, where the team had gathered and were exchanging gifts.

"TANYA!" they all greeted her, standing up and enveloping her in a group hug.

_Good to be home,_ she thought to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

**justlikewedo: Here is more:) enjoy this next chapter. Thanks for the review**

**brainDamage089: Well I'm glad you like this so much. Thanks for the review**

**meadow567: Thank you for bringing that to my attention. It's addressed in this chapter, not to worry. Enjoy, and thanks for the review**

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I didn't want to carry the heavier load

You can't always take the middle road

There comes a time when you make your mind

And the point gets left behind

Buying Time- Great Big Sea

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She noticed that after Christmas, everyone moved back into the apartment complexes they were renting while in Minnesota.

Except for Jim Craig, he lived in the Nagobads' basement.

"Can I help you, Velma?" he asked before going back downstairs.

"Oh no dear, I'll be fine. No worries." The older woman shooed him off downstairs. He smiled at Tanya as he turned and went down the stairs.

It wasn't long after that that she left and went back to the apartment she shared with none other than her cousin, photographer Lacey Kovalev. She'd been recruited by Herb out of the University of New Hampshire, where Ralph Cox was from. In fact, she and Ralph had been together for over two years. She'd been screaming in Russian to Tanya over the phone in excitement.

The payphone again.

Jim Craig walked by the same payphone on the way back from spending time with his Boston University teammates, and there she was, rambling on in Russian again. Well, it only _sounded _like rambling because he didn't actually _speak_ the language.

When she hung up, there was a sad smile on her face.

"What happened?" he asked, offering his hand.

"I, uh..." she looked down at the floor. "Nothing. Really, it's nothing. I'm... I'm fine."

The tears welling in her eyes told a different story

His hand moved to her shoulder.

"What would you say to a cup of coffee?"

"Well, if I were rational and sane, I'd say no, because I'm really not supposed to consult with you guys, only to really represent you in the press and what have you..."

His face fell.

"But..." she continued, "seeing as I an neither rational or sane because I have been awake for the past 48 hours, I'd say yes."

And with that, they were sitting in the university's cafeteria, gulping sludge they could only legally pass off as coffee.

"So are you actually back?"

"Not yet," she shuddered as the coffee burned her throat. "I still need to talk to Herb, resubmit an application and my portfolio, but I felt so guilty about leaving you guys the way I did, I had to come back," she gulped, her mouth was suddenly dry.

"Can I ask why you left?"

"It's a long story," she answered. _No don't tell him why you left. He'll never look at you the same again. _

_Shut up, Brain. Last time I listened to you I ended up stuck in Boston._

"We've still got time," he told her, looking at his watch.

_Do it, Tanya, tell him._

"My mother told me to come home. She didn't want me to be around you guys," she put on a fake accent and raised her hands in the air. "What with the hitting, and the slashing and the violence, and..." she let loose in a string of Russian dialect he didn't understand.

"Say that again?"

"She told me that my father would brand me a whore if he knew I was traveling with the team."

The look of confusion on his face told her to continue.

"She's under the impression that all Herb wants me for is um..." she cleared her throat and stared into her coffee mug. "To... how can I put this lightly..." she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "_Satisfy_ _the team's needs."_

"What?" he balked. "Tanya, Buzzy's married, happily I might add, and his wife is the nicest woman in the world, unless you count Velma Nagobads, Kenny Morrow's engaged, Coxie's dating a photographer..."

"I know, he's dating my cousin." Tanya answered, chuckling.

Jim's eyes went wide.

"Lacey? Lacey Kovalev? She was just... here... getting team photos. She's your _cousin?"_

"Oh yeah, on my Mom's side."

"How is that possible? Your last name is Burnaby."

_You really _are_ thick._

"My mom and her sister married into the same family. I know, how cliche. Anyway, my mom married Vladislav, who was the older of the two, and my aunt, Marina, married Vladislav's younger brother, Dmitri, who to this day can't look at me without seeing my father."

"Why is that so bad?"

"My family considers my father to be nothing more than dirt," a single tear ran down her cheek. "He committed suicide the day I was born."

His mouth dropped open.

"And ever since then my mother blames me for what he did."

If possible, his jaw dropped even farther.

"Why?"

"Well, she never actually _said_ that, but I can see it in her face. The way she looks at me, she looks at me like she wants to cry."

Jim was silent.

"She tells me "Tanya, you look like your father, always like him." And every time she does I want to smother myself with a pillow."

"I don't think she blames you, Tanya," Jim reasoned. "I think she's hurt, and the emotional scars are still there."

She shrugged and continued. "I used to ask her why she hated him, but now I just don't bother," she gulped another hard mouthful of coffee. "I know what he did..." her words turned bitter. "I know what he did..."

Jim reached out to touch her hand. "Tell me?"

She turned her head to look him in the eye.

"He had an affair before I was born, and my mother did all she could to forget. To make the marriage seem absolutely perfect. Before I was born she asked my father if he was happy that they were having a baby girl, and you know what he said?"

Jim shook his head.

"He said it would've been better if, when she had found out she was pregnant, if she had gotten rid of me."

His jaw literally hit the floor.

"And what's worse, he's dead because my brother and I reminded him of his misdeeds. My brother was the product of that affair and I was the child he never wanted. All he had done to never subject anyone to what they had been through. The Holocaust, I mean. All he had done to preserve his dignity was shattered because I was born!" The tears were coming on stronger now. "You know what, Jimmy, I have... to go. That's it. I just..."

She got up out of the chair she was sitting in and turned to walk away, tears welling in her eyes.

"Wait," Jimmy stopped her and gently gripped her arm. "Your brother... what's his name?"

She choked as she turned around again to look him in the face.

"Vladislav Tretiak," she managed.

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**I know, I had to leave it there, and the cliffhanger will be explained in the next chapter. I know Tretiak is A LOT older than Tanya, but you'll see how it fits together. :) Reviews are nice. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**justlikewedo: I leave you with cliffhangers, my wonderful beta, because I want you to READ more, though I know that when I leave you hanging it borders on being cruel. Thanks for the review**

**brainDamage089: Yes, cliffhangers are mean, only because you know that there's more coming. Thanks for the review**

**csd11242: I'm so glad you enjoyed the last two chapters, and see, I updated :). Hooray for more goalies! Goalies make it fun:)**

**shariena: Always nice to see a new reviewer, and I'm very glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Enjoy this one too.**

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I know you'll never count the tears you've cried

Though you've asked a million questions

No one could tell you why

A single soul is chosen to be the one put to the test

But there will be some consolation for a heart that never rests

Something Beautiful- Great Big Sea

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That single statement was enough to convince Jimmy to pull her into his arms and hug her tightly. What had happened to her made his tragedy seem miniscule. What kind of father wishes an abortion upon his wife, saying it would be better if their child had never been conceived? That was one blow, but finding out that you had a brother in the Soviet Union, one of the best hockey players in the world, and had never known he existed?

He could feel the wall around Tanya's heart suddenly burst, and floods of tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I'm a disappointment..." she muttered.

"Tanya, listen to me," he put finger under her chin and had her tilt to look at him. "No matter what happened when you were younger, you're not a disappointment." The tears still ran down her cheeks, Jimmy fighting the urge to wipe them away with his thumb.

Finally, the urge won out, and slowly, he ran his thumb down her cheeks, the tear streaks still visible against her now pale skin.

It was then that she saw a shadow disappear down the hall.

She swore under her breath in Russian.

Letting go of Jim, she turned away from him and ran out toward the disappearing figure.

Upon reaching the apartment, she opened the door to find Lacey tapping her foot against the floor, her anger threatening to spill over.

Вы шлюха! Вы хуже, чем Ваш отец (You whore! You're worse than your father)

"Excuse me?"

"I saw what you were doing back there! In the arms of a Boston University hockey player! Делает мне, что рвота" (Makes me want to vomit)

Позволяет вы хотите рвота? Кто девушку винтов хоккей игрока от UNH? Ах нет, подождите, извините, как ВЕСЬ о хоккейной команде? Я даже не удивлюсь, если Вы не болезни сейчас!" (Makes you want to vomit? Who's the girl screwing the hockey player from UNH? Oh no, wait, sorry, how about the ENTIRE hockey team? I'd be surprised if you didn't have a disease by now!)

Tanya knew Lacey had never done such a thing, but to hear those hateful words come out of her mouth had become the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Tanya didn't deserve to be branded a whore, and she wasn't going to stand for it. If Lacey thought she was dirt, then fine. All Tanya knew was that she was getting out of the apartment and getting out_ now. _She went into the bathroom and locked herself in.

They say running is good for you, good for your heart, good for your cardiovascular system.

But not if you're trying to run from your past.

It seemed to be all she did these days, trying to run from her past, and then trying to run from what was important to her. She couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror anymore, and if she couldn't do that what was the point of trying?

Forcing herself to look in the mirror, she swung her arm forward and into the door.

She was sure she'd heard bones breaking.

Tanya didn't even stop to look at Lacey as she went out the door and to her car. She drove until she reached the Nagobads' house. She saw that there was still a light on in the basement apartment, but it was still too late to knock on the door without waking everyone in the house.

But instead of going back to the apartment she shared with Lacey, she crawled into the back seat of her car, grabbed a blanket from the back and slept.

When she awoke she was still incredibly tired, and not able to eat. Upon turning the key in the ignition, she took a look at the clock and saw that she was over an hour late.

"Shit, I was supposed to meet Herb over an hour ago!" Putting a hand on the steering wheel, she felt an incredible pain go through her hand. She screamed and bit down on her lip so no one else could hear her.

Putting the car into gear, she drove to the university and caught Herb just as they were heading off the ice to screen a film. The projector... the few, the proud, the...

Criminally insane, for sure. Herb had them screening film of the Sovet hockey team, to better understand how they were going to play, and how they were going to beat them at their own game.

"Vladislav Tretiak," Herb came to the goaltender. "If you score on him, keep the puck, because it doesn't happen often," with this statement he eyed Jimmy, who stared back.

The slide seemed to go in slow motion in front of Tanya's eyes. There he was... Vladislav Tretiak... Soviet goaltender...

Her brother.

"Tanya?" Doc Nagobads interrupted her thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Perhaps I should take a look at that hand of yours."

"No need, Doc, I'm not staying long."

"Now really, I insist," Doc waved her over. "Come, come. It won't take very long."

Obediently, she followed, though she could see in his eyes that he knew something was wrong. Why would she suddenly show up again at Christmas, and now with a hand that looked to be out of commission if something were not right? He'd seen her waiting outside in her car the night before as well, and he needed to know why.

As she met him in his office, he sat her down and closed the door behind them.

"Come," he mentioned to her hand.

She lfited said body part to him. She winced as his fingers worked through her knuckles and fingers.

"Well, it is not broken, but I must ask, what did you do?"

"Lacey and I had a row," she explained, hoping Doc knew who Lacey was. "A really big screaming match. We said some pretty awful things to each other, Doc," she paused. "And instead of swinging out and hitting her, I went into the washroom and hit the door in anger."

He eyed her suspiciously.

"There is something else you are not telling me," he insisted.

She exhaled sharply.

"When I went home before Christmas," she started, "I came across an old letter my father had written to a young boy still in the Soviet Union..."

Doc waited patiently.

"And when I read the letter it was signed, "Your father, Vladislav Kovalev." I suppose that's how the boy's mother had known my father, and though he never sent it, I confronted my mother about what I'd found."

"And what did she tell you?"

"She told me that I should mind my own business and that I shouldn't be meddling in things that are long buried and over with."

"But why is this letter so important?"

"Because it is addressed to my brother."

"I was not aware that you had a brother."

"I wasn't either, until I found this letter," she pulled the yellowing paper from her pocket and handed it to the doctor.

Upon reading it, his mouth fell open.

_July 22, 1957_

_Vladislav,_ it read.

_You have never met me, and I have never met you, though your mother sends me photographs of you every Christmas. Why, you may ask? Because I am your father, Vladislav. You were named for me._

_I cannot tell you how proud I am that you are growing to be so big! She tells me that you are almost five years old now, and that you are playing more and more hockey. _

_You like to play goalie, yes? I thought so, your mother says it is all she can do to keep you away from the ice and in a classroom so that you can learn. Remember, learning how to count to one hundred and fifty nine is as important as learning how to keep a puck out of the net._

_If you ask your mother why I am not in the Soviet Union anymore, she will tell you that I have married another, and any day now she is going to have a baby. She told me she is going to have a baby girl, though I have told her this was not something I wanted._

_I want to come back to your mother, so that I may watch you grow and watch how well you play goalie. It is a horrible thing to say, because I know that I should not have done what I did. I had promised myself that I would not have children, because I do not want them to suffer as I did._

_Grow strong, Vladislav, so that one day, you may make your mother proud._

_Your father,_

_Vladislav Kovalev_

"Oh, I see," Doc Nagobads nodded his head.

"Two days after that was written, I was born and he committed suicide. Since then, I've always felt responsible," she bit her lip. _"_It's just, I felt so guilty for leaving the team the way I did, I had to come back once more."

He nodded again.

"Doc, I have to go back... to the Soviet Union."

"I am sure everyone will insist that you belong here, with us," he handed the letter back to her and watched as she pushed the letter into her pocket.

"No, Doc, I'm Russian, and my place is with the Russian hockey team. I've destroyed my chances of becoming the PR agent for this team, and my being here is only distracting the players from what they need the most."

Doc's eyes told the story of the year.

"You understand, don't you?" Tanya asked. "I had to come back, to say goodbye."

She went to open the door and turned to look at the doctor once again. "Thanks for patching up my hand."

He gave her a small smile.

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Jim Craig awoke the next morning to find that a note had been slipped beneath the basement door, addressed to him. She was certain that there was no one else in the house besides himself, Doc, and Velma, so only one of them could have done so.

Opening the envelope, he pulled out a hand-scrawled note, from none other than Tanya Burnaby.

_Jim,_ it read.

_I'm so sorry to have to do it this way, but it is the only way I know I will be able to do so without dissolving into a blubbering, quivering mess._

_The truth is, Jimmy, that I don't belong here with you guys. You mean the world to me, certainly, but here is not my place._

_My place is in Russia, with the Soviet hockey team. Please don't take this as rejection or as a tip that I do not care for you, because I do. After much consideration, I've decided that it is what is best. For me, for you, and the team._

_I must ask that you don't try to find me, Jim Craig, because once I am back in Russia, it would be about as likely as finding a needle in a haystack._

_Perhaps I shall see you in Lake Placid, though I am certain it will not be whilst I am standing behind your team's bench._

_Tanya Burnaby._


	6. Chapter 6

**justlikewedo: Okay, no more cliffhangers. Oh wait, maybe this chapter has a _tiny_ cliffhanger, but I hope you forgive me (folds hands in anticipation). Enjoy this next chapter, and thanks for the review.**

**shariena: Yes yes, I updated, see? Thanks for the review.**

**meadow567: I didn't even notice that error in Chapter 4. Thanks for pointing that out. Truth be told, at that point I just wanted Jim to get a point across, so he mixed up his facts a little. We're all human, right? Enjoy this new chapter, thanks for the review.**

**Okay, this time, as I was writing, the muse decided to pump me full of more ideas than I could sleep on, so this is now a double update. Please enjoy :)**

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Let it go, let it go

This is smaller than you know

It's no bigger than a pebble lying on a gravel road

Let it go, let it go

Got to leave it all behind you

Give the sun a chance to find you

Let it go

Let It Go- Great Big Sea

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The plane ride back to Moscow was the longest ride Tanya had ever taken. Getting off the plane, she stepped into the airport, grabbed her bags, and took a cab to the arena.

This arena had the feel of a morgue. It was dark, even colder than the university's, and Tikhonov's office was cold and empty. He looked like Herb on the ice, but he was shouting worse than Herb ever had.

Bold as she was, she still shivered as she climbed the bench and waited until Tikhonov skated over to the boards and glared at her.

"Who the hell are you? This is a closed practice!"

Her Russian certainly came in handy now.

"I'm Tanya Kovalevna," she answered, using her father's last name from thirty years before.

"Ah, so you are the one I was told about."

"Told about?"

"You have been sent by the Americans to spy!"

"No, I am here by my own account," she answered. "I came to find someone, and to ask for a position with this team."

"What could you possibly do for us?"

"Press."

"We do not speak with the media!"

"You may not, but that is my job," she told him. "I am skilled in both English and Russian, and I am more than capable of dealing with any unpleasantries that may be hurled toward the team."

Tikhonov still did not look convinced.

"If you like I can act as a translator."

"We speak English just fine."

"Alright," she breathed, exhausted. "Look, I understand that you think I'm a threat, but I swear I am not here for the Americans. I am not trying to find your weak point."

Again, he glared at her.

"All I'm asking is that you give me a chance."

"Chance to what?"

"At least let me stay for this practice. If any reporter comes to the door, just let me deal with them. If you don't like how I go about things, then you can tell me to go home."

Tikhonov cocked his chin toward her. A woman asking to be part of the team? How dare she?

"Fine," he hissed. "What else did you want?"

"I want to speak to Tretiak."

"Why?"

"Because I have something important to tell him."

"What could be so important that you cannot tell me first? My players talk to no one during a practice."

"I have a letter from my father that was addressed to him that he never received. I think it is appropriate that he knows what happened."

Begrudingly, Tikhonov called Vladislav out of the net, replacing him with Vladimir Myshkin (Tanya had done her research on the team). Tretiak skated to the boards, lifting his helmet off so that he could look her in the eye.

"Good God, what do you want?" he whispered, clearly not happy that she was standing behind the boards.

His words died on his tongue as she held up a photograph. "Who is this?" she asked.

"Myself..."

She nodded, then holding out a letter. "You remember that. Good, memories are tricky things," she reached into her pocket. "This... I found this as I was going through a box in a cupboard earlier this month."

"Why should it matter to me?" Tretiak asked her, taking off his gloves.

"It is addressed to you," she told him, the Russian she spoke at home clearly working in her favour. "Your name _is_ Vladislav Tretiak, yes?"

"Yes..."

"So this is yours. It is a letter from my father."

Tretiak's face contorted in confusion. He reached out and gingerly took it from her hands.

"Go ahead, read it," Tanya insisted. "It won't bite you."

If this was the only way to get closure for what her father had done, and a way to secure a position with this team, she was going to do it.

Realizing that this girl was serious, the normally calm goaltender's hands shook as he unfolded the letter. His eyes went wide as he read its contents.

"This is true?" he asked her as he looked up.

"If it were not, I would not be giving it to you!" Tanya nodded again. "Vladislav Kovalev was as much your father as he was mine."

Tretiak shook his head. "I refuse to believe it!"

"For God's sake, you're 28 years old! Stop acting like a child!" she scolded. "I suppose you want more proof?" she reached into her purse and produced a small envelope. "I thought you might act like this upon finding out, so I did some more digging in that box I found." Opening the envelope, she grabbed:

"Look here, your mother sent a copy of your birth certificate, there are pictures of you at ages 1, 2, 3, all the way to the age of 5! Oh, and let's see here! Could it be? Check the date on that letter!"

He did, but still he did not wish to believe that this girl he had never met before could indeed be his sister!

"This could be a copy! I want to speak to him!"

"Not a chance, Vladislav!" she stopped him. "Two days after that letter was written I was born, and that night, July 24, my mother had just put me to sleep in bed. I was only a few hours old, there was no room at the hospital. Anyway, my mother came back into their bedroom and found him face down on the dressing table, his gun fallen from his hand!"

"You still have had a richer life than my own!" Tretiak argued. "At eighteen I was chosen to play for the government, Soviet Union, and if I do not play I die!"

"Oh you believe so, hmm?" the rage boiling over. "You believe your life has been difficult? Vladislav Kovalev left _us,_ referring to you and your mother, and my mother and I _nothing._ Because of his misdeeds my family looks upon me as dirt! Because I look exactly as he did! _I _was the child he never wanted, he even expressed that to you in that letter!" She paused to catch her breath, and still she was not finished. "My mother _blames me_ for my father's suicide, because he never really loved her! He loved _your_ mother! He wished an abortion upon Natalia, that is my mother's name, saying it would have been better if I had never been conceived!"

His mouth dropped open, though there was no empathy in his eyes.

"She kept me close to her all my life, thinking that I would somehow find out about what he had done! And now I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror. _That's_ why I came here, Vladislav, to tell you the truth! Do you need me to go into more detail? Because I will gladly do so, see how you like it then!"

Upon hearing the racket cease, Tikhonov skated over to the boards, sent Tretiak back on to the ice, and stared Tanya in the face.

"If any of that was true..."

"Every word," she insisted.

He nodded. "I can see that you certainly have the attitude that I am looking for," he waited, sizing her up and down. "Yes, I believe I will keep you..."

Her eyes lit up.

"But not as a press representative."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I want you as a doctor's assistant."

"But... I have no training in medicine!"

"No need, in name only, you are a doctor's assistant. If you wish any other position, then you may walk out the way you came. These are my terms, I will not yield. And yet this way, you are behind the bench. This is what you wanted, yes?"

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Good. Now, I certainly hope you have a dress shirt and pants, as you must make yourself presentable as part of the staff."

"Yes, I figured as such."

"Okay," Tikhonov told her. "In three days we are playing the United States team in New York, and you must be present. You understand, yes?"

She nodded, only able to watch as the coach skated back on to the ice. Walking out, bags in hand, it was only then that the reality of what she had done set it.

She was part of the Soviet Union hockey team now. She was no longer Tanya Burnaby, but Tanya Kovalevna, leaving all she knew behind.

A needle in a haystack for sure. Jim Craig would never find her now, but it was best it stay that way.

If only for three more days. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh look here. Because the muse is being stubborn and would not let me sleep, I now give you Part 2 of my double update. I wasn't sure how long this story was actually going to be, but the ending to this story popped into my head as I was on my way to school, and so this has become the second to last chapter (I know, this is only a short Miracle story). However, please enjoy, and feel free to leave a review :)**

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What do you do?

You can't make nothing out of nothing

Everybody needs a start

And what do you do, can't make nothing out of nothing

Give my country back its heart

Nothing Out of Nothing- Great Big Sea

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"The Soviet Union drubbing Team USA, 10 to 3," she heard the announcer over the loudspeaker.

It wasn't so much a win for them as it was an annihilation. She could see Jim Craig struggling to keep her team out of the net. Petrov, Fetisov, and Kharlamov were too strong a line for the team she had left behind.

She'd seen the look Jim had given her as he skated past the Soviet bench, shaking hands with the other in the name of goodsportsmanship. Though she could certainly tell they did not share the sentiment.

Nor did she expect them to. She knew it had suddenly become a wake up call for the US team. From the look on Herb Brooks' face she knew he was going to do everything in his power to make his team the best they could become.

Before she departed from the bench she looked over, and Herb's eyes fixated on her. In that moment everything he had wanted to share with her was indeed, shared. The look told her that she was no longer someone his team could hold on to, that the fact that she had once been part of their lives, if only for a short time, no longer mattered.

She was part of the Soviet team now, and he was going to find a way to win, no matter what.

Whether or not the two teams played each other later on remained to be seen.

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It wasn't until later on that night that Jim Craig actually realized who he had, in fact, been looking at.

Behind the Soviet bench had been none other than Tanya Burnaby.

He knew she'd said her place was with the Soviet hockey team, he'd accepted that fact...

Hadn't he?

A knock came to the door and interrupted her thoughts.

"Hey, Jimmy, how you holding up?" Steve Christoff came in.

"Hey Rif, thought you'd be asleep."

"Nah, can't," he answered. "Heard Herb tore you a new one after the game though."

"Not as though I didn't deserve it," Jimmy mumbled. "I sucked out there tonight, Rif. If I don't get my ass in gear Herb's gonna bench me."

"That's not why you're still awake."

"No it's not," Jim confirmed. "I just... after Tanya left she asked me not to come after her, and I respected her wishes."

Steve waited.

"And now here she is behind the Soviet bench. It's not right, Rif."

Steve sat down in the chair by the door. "Look, it doesn't do any good to anyone if you're sitting in here thinking about what could've happened between you and her," he saw a muscle in Jim's jaw twitch. "You didn't know Tanya that well, and the fact that she went back to the Soviet Union shouldn't have any bearing on your game."

"You don't understand," Jim ran a hand through his hair and laid back on the bed. "She told me a lot more than you know."

"Like what?"

"Here's an interesting fact. She found out she had a half-brother, which is why she went back. Guess what his name is?"

Steve shook his head.

"Vladislav Tretiak."

Steve blinked, suddenly silenced. Tanya Burnaby's _brother_ was Vladislav Tretiak? No, not right. Not right at all.

"And guess what else? Two and a half years ago, almost three actually. It was the year my mother died of cancer, and a bird flew by."

"A bird, what kind of bird?"

"A hummingbird," he answered.

"What's so special about a hummingbird?" Steve asked, clearly confused.

"The fact of the matter is, Steve, that it's scientifically impossible to catch a hummingbird, they fly so fast and in an unusual pattern. It's really strange that that day, I caught that hummingbird and held it in my hand."

Steve motioned for him to continue.

"Tanya then told me a couple of months ago that she caught the same hummingbird that day."

"It could've been a coincidence, you know."

"Not something like that, that's too unlikely." Jim reasoned, looking Steve dead in the face. "Look, Rif, it that didn't mean something then nothing did. Tanya is a special kind of woman. It tears me apart that she's now behind the Soviet bench."

"Don't tell me that, I'm not the one who needs to hear it," Steve countered. "If you want to prove a point, when we get to Lake Placid, play the best game you've ever played, every single game. If we end up playing the Soviets again, we need to be ready."

Jim nodded. "You're right."

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right," Steve smirked.

"Sure you are," Jim answered, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Good night, Rif," he said, not looking at the door.

"Good night, Jim," Steve closed the door behind him as he left.

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It was so cold that night that Tanya bargained herself three extra blankets, sleeping on the couch in one of the rooms they'd been afforded. With an already stretched budget there wasn't room for an extra bed. Instead, she'd opted to room with Vladislav and Myshkin. That was a Tikhonov pairing for sure, keep the goalies together. Plus, with Vladislav being a blood relative (no matter if he refused to admit it), it was sensible.

In the early morning she heard rustling from one of the beds. Picking her head up off the pillow just enough to see over the end of the couch, she saw Vladislav heading toward the bathroom.

Upon flushing and wsahing his hands, she thought he'd head right back to bed, but instead, he stopped at the couch and put a hand on her shoulder. Getting to his knees, he leaned close and whispered so low only she could hear what he had to say.

"Even if I did not know you before, it is better I know now."

Coming from a hardened Soviet goalie that was practically saying "I love you." When Tikhonov had offered her the position she had taken it because he was so intimidating. He always carried around that black book, thinking up plays and ways to work his players. On more than one occasion, the entire team had been sitting quietly, watching TV when Tikhonov had come in and sat with them. Gradually, they all got up, one by one, and soon it was only Tikhonov watching the black and white box.

Never had she expected to practically bond with the players. Mostly, they kept to themselves, but with a few of them she had managed to wish them over. She was more than capable of keeping up with them, their schedules, their workouts, their practices. Okay, perhaps bond is stretching it a little too thin. There was a mutual respect between herself and the Soviet team.

The following two weeks, all she ended up doing was standing behind benches through practices and games, watching her team go undefeated into the semi-finals.

And who should they face but none other than Jim Craig, Mark Pavelich, and the US Olympic Hockey Team.

How does that saying go? Those who do not know their history are bound to repeat it.

Indeed.


	8. Chapter 8

**justlikewedo: I'm so glad you enjoyed seeing Rif in there! I put him in there because I know he's your favourite and you're such a wonderful beta, I KNEW he deserved a place in this story. Sadly he's not in this chapter though, but guess what? Tanya realizes her mistake, and then you have to read to find out what happens at the end. Thanks so much for all your help :) **

**brainDamage089: Tretiak reacted like that because he was shocked. I mean, it's not everyday that someone comes into the arena and claims to be your sister. When he told her that he was glad he knew her, he did it because he knew she was the only link to the father he never knew. Thanks for the review(s) though :).**

**meadow567: Thanks for the review :) I hope you find this chapter interesting as well.**

**Well, this is it. This is the last chapter of Hummingbird. Not too worry though, I'm working on a new Miracle story entitled 'A Dozen White Roses' and starting Jack O'Callahan. Enjoy this new chapter...**

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Then like the final movie scene

The price will find his perfect queen

The hero always saves the world

The villians get what they deserve

The boy will always get the girl

When I am king

When I Am King- Great Big Sea

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It was a very tense game, for both teams and staff. Tanya knew this was it. If the Soviets beat the Americans, they'd move on to the Gold Medal round and more than likely capture the Olympic title once again. If the Americans won (Tikhonov had been extremely confident that this would not happen, not with the type of performance from two weeks before), then _they_ advanced to the Gold Medal round, and Tikhonov would be very, very angry.

Now, after two periods, the Americans were behind by a goal, and she knew for a fact that Tikhonov was not happy. Benching Vladislav had been a decision made in the heat of the moment; for Tikhonov knew that he always played better after letting in a goal.

For she knew that her heart was not with her brother and his team, rather it was inching toward the American team. Sad as it was that Tikhonov was not happy with the way his team was playing, she, in actuality, did not care.

She was _ecstatic_ that her former American teammates were playing so well. Each time they had a goal, she smiled to herself as they piled on to the ice, it was as though they had won the game with every goal they scored.

That first period goal to tie the game at two goals a piece at the extreme tail end of the period had Tikonhov up in arms about it, claiming that the buzzer had gone so the goal should have been disallowed. However, the referee insisted that the clock had been stopped at 19:59.59, therefore the goal would be allowed.

She'd been the locker room when Tikhonov had ripped into them, claiming that if they allowed this to happen now, there would be hell to pay. Many of them had been Olympic holdovers from the previous Olympics; they knew what was expected. Perfection, and nothing less than perfection.

The second period left the Soviet Union ahead by a goal, and Tikhonov still with an air of cockiness and superiority. Tanya felt sick. She wanted more than anything to see the team she had left broken-hearted come back and kick the team she was with now while they were down. Of course, if she let Tikhonov know that she was done for.

The beginning of the third period brought new hope, both to Tanya and to the US team. She heard the crowd chanting "USA USA USA!", and she smiled to herself. At 8:39, Mark Johnson, affectionately nicknamed "Magic", took a pass from Dave Silk, and scored. The game was now tied. With this, she saw Tikhonov lean over and whisper something into someone's ear, but she didn't know who.

Not even two minutes later, she saw Mike Eruzione take a pass from Mark Pavelich, which had come from John Harrington, nicknamed 'Bah", past Vladimir Myshkin and into the net.

Bedlam. That was what occured next. The entire US team flew over the boards andended up in a massive huddle as the crowd in the stands erupted. Tanya turned her head to look Tikhonov in the eye. Since she had signed on she was no longer intimidated by him, she actually found him rather comical.

She heard Herb from the other bench shouting "Play your game! Play your game!"

Oh Herb was going for it, and badly.

Suddenly he was changing shifts every thirty seconds, but Tikonhov stood by the mantra that "if it worked once, it would work every time." Therefore, there must be a crack in the American line.

"They're not pulling Myshkin!" she heard Craig shout.

Looking from Craig to Tikhonov she saw Herb smile. "He doesn't know what to do!"

_Yeah, that's right, Herb, he doesn't know what he's doing. He's never seen something like this. No one's been able to skate with his team into the third period for years._

10...

_Keep going, boys. Keep going..._

Nine...

_That's it, fire a shot toward the net, boys. Make Tikhonov suffer._

Eight...

_Tikhonov's having kittens, Herb. He doesn't know what to do._

7...

_Hold them off for seven more seconds, boys. Seven more seconds..._

Six...

All she could do was chomp on her gum.

5...

_Come on, come on..._

4...

_Do you believe in miracles?_

3, 2, 1...

The arena suddenly erupted in cheers. The Americans had done it! They'd beaten the best team in the world!

_Don't let Tikhonov see how happy you are, don't let him see._

Tikhonov turned and nodded to Herb, who nodded in turn. It was then that she saw him take off to the dressing rooms, and Craig made his way on to the ice.

_Stay where you are, stay where you are..._

They were jumping on each other.

_Jim Craig's on the ice, Tanya. Go..._

Without regard, she jumped over the boards, much to Tikhonov's dismay. Sliding across the ice, she quickly made her way toward the sea of hockey players jumping on each other, hugging each other, and screaming in shock.

Finally, she found him. As soon as he let go of Steve Christoff and looked at her, she jumped.

Right into Jim Craig's arms.

He swung her around as she laughed. When he set her down, she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small beige box.

As the wall of noise threatened to deafen them both, he took off his gloves and opened the box.

Inside the box were two crystal hummingbirds. The hummingbirds themselves formed a heart, and within the heart was a picture of herself and Jim, taken with her camera just before she had left for the Soviet Union.

Engraved in the frame were the words:

_Two hummingbirds merge as one._

Upon leaving the arena, despite the fact that it was so cold, a single hummingbird fluttered across the sky.

Smiling, Jim turned to Tanya, and placed a finger upon her chin.

Capturing her lips in a kiss, the sun suddenly shone brighter than it had that morning.

And with that, she had said all he needed to hear.


End file.
